The Kindness of Shadows
by ellabadger
Summary: Clara has been a girl afraid of the dark, the night, and of what lurks within it. But when she meets Raphael Santiago, she realises that the dark isn't as frightening as she once thought. And that there is kindness in the shadows.
1. Chapter 1

Clara felt the beat of the music underneath her heels. The pulsing of multicoloured lights, the smell of alcohol, sweat and faintness of lust hung in the air as the dancers mingled with each other in the middle of the dance floor. The girl swaying their hips provocatively in their skin tight dresses, and a few of the more confident boys joined in. There was laughter in the corners of the teenagers allowed into the club, holding onto half empty glass of liquor, while ignoring the warnings their parents gave them about staying out far too late.

Clara sighed, she was no different, she held onto her can of coke nervously between her pale hands. Her friends had decided it would be a grand idea to drag her off into the Pandemonium; a night where she could 'not be such a bore' as they said... and now she had lost sight of them in the crowd. She felt the straps of her heels dig into her ankles, and the black dress she wore was much too short for her liking, but it wasn't as if she wore dresses often. This outfit was forced upon her by one of her friends Madison.

She was so distracted in her thoughts, she had barely any time to register that a figure had leaned itself right next to her. She turned to face a boy. Quite handsome one at that! He had blonde curling hair, that brushed against his forehead, his skin was so pale and fair without a blemish in sight. His eyes were blue, a striking blue framed by thick brown lashes much darker than his hair colour. What struck her the most though was the unnatural thinness of his body.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing here all alone?" his eyes raked across her body.

"Actually I'm not by myself, I came here with my friends," she said, looking away from him.

"But they're not here, are they? You're by yourself, so, why don't you come hang out with me?" he reached out to touch her arm, but Clara got up from her seat at the bar,

"Actually, it's getting rather late, so if you'll excuse me," she moved away from him, leaving the can of coke on the bar, and hurrying away from the stranger. She opened the doors to the club, abandoning the thought of meeting up with her friends and focusing more on getting home before midnight.

Clara walked down the darkened streets, her heels clicking along the sidewalk, she winced as the straps of her heels dug into her ankles. Her thoughts were filled with the promise of a warm bed and a good nights rest. She was so distracted she didn't notice the dark figure following her, until it reached out and pulled her into the alley. A cold hand clasped over her mouth and muffled her screams. Her back hit the brick wall of the building behind her and her hands were pinned next to her.

Her attacker was the boy from the club. His eyes were glinting dangerously in the moonlight, and he grinned, revealing sharp fangs that poked from underneath the top of his lip.

"It's a shame really," he leaned forward as he spoke, "if you had just gone with me, I would have only drunk a little blood, but now, I think I'll take your life along."

He opened up his mouth and before she could scream out loud again, his teeth clamped down on the side of her neck. She gave a gasp, pain piercing her nape and the sounds of gulping was heard in the abandoned alleyway. The pain faded and she found herself unable to move; black dots invaded her vision, her head swam, she felt dizzy and she felt her knees about to colapse from underneath her.

Just as her eyes were closing, the weight of the body pressing against her was gone and she crumple onto the floor. The boy that had pinned her to the wall had dropped against the garbage. She felt herself get picked up and pressed against another body. The figure was murmuring, but she couldn't hear any word being spoken, her eyes closed and her vision went black.


	2. Chapter 2

Clara felt a heavy weight pressing her from all sides. She found it difficult to breathe, there was no way she could get air into her lungs. She panicked, she clawed at the darkness, trying to propel her through and into open air. Her hand broke through, and she grasped onto the ground in front of her hand and pulled her head through. With a sudden burst of strength she pulled herself put the rest of the way, and then there was a thirst. A thirst so painful, it gripped at her throat clawing savagely. A sac was thrown in front of her, her senses in overdrive she ripped through the plastic violently with her teeth and swallowed its contents.

It was dark, the only light came from a single light post and the pale glow of the moon. Clara looked in the direction the plastic sac of blood was thrown to and she noticed a boy, sitting a few feet away. His dark eyes watching her thoughtfully, he opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment she felt terrified of the boy in the dark suit. She got up, trembling, and bolted the other direction, passing grave stone by grave stone, ignoring the shouts of the boy calling her to come back.

The dirt stuck to her hair, dress and she tried to blink the dirt clinging to her eyelashes. The pavement scraped the soles of her bare feet. She was so close to her home, where her foster parents must be furious, it must be at least past midnight. She threw the front door open, with a strength she didn't know she had. Her parents were sat on the couch, waiting, and once they turned to look at her, preparing to lecture her. Caroline Spencers screamed, and screamed. Clara stumbled, shocked by the reaction, and then she remembered the dirt on her skin and clothes, and the blood coating her mouth and throat. She looked as if she had murdered someone. Neil Spencers jumped up and grabbed the home phone dialing 911; preparing to tell the person on the other side that he suspected his foster daughter had attacked someone.

There was a buzzing in her ears, she was deaf to all the reactions around her. Everything seemed to be in slow motion, her foster mother hiding behind her husband, tears spilling out of her eyes, and Neil's mouth screaming down the phone. She had had enough, she stumbled out the front door, and ran down the street once more. The tears flowed past her cheeks and fell into her mouth, she stopped, chocked and spluttered when she felt iron in her mouth. Her fingered swept across her cheeks, and she drew them back, thick drops of blood where laid across them. She screamed, her throat aching, she fell on her knees in the grass of her favourite park.

She covered her eyes with her palms, the blood sunk through her clenched fingers and dripped onto the green of the floor below. A hand rested itself on her shoulder, making her jump, she looked up through bloodstained eyelashes. It was the same boy who she had seen at the graveyard when she dug herself out of the ground, most likely he was the one who put her there in the first place. She threw herself away from him,

"Stay away from me," she wrapped her arms around herself, "don't come near me, you're the reason this all happened!"

"Actually, I'm the one who saved you," the boy sat down in the grass in front of her, "my name is Raphael Santiago, I am the one who buried you, but I'm not to the one who turned you."

"Turned me? What the hell are talking about?"

"You, have been bitten and turned by one of my Clan members, but you shouldn't worry about him right now," he looked at her through dark eyelashes.

"So what would that make me? A vampire?" Clara let out a chocked laugh and rubbed the cheeks, the drying blood-tears were flaked off and drifted onto the grass.

"Actually it does," Raphael responded. Clara's head snapped up,

"You're joking, right? This is some kind of sick joke!" Clara stood up, "why did you bury me? And why am I crying blood?!"

Raphael stood up as well.

"I told you, you're a vampire, I saved you before you were completely drained of blood," he said.

There were thoughts clouding her mind,

 _Vampire? It would explain crying red, and why she drank the blood inside the plastic sac._

There was a distant wailing of police cars, Clara looked at Raphael alarmed. He lurched forward, grabbed her arm, and tugged her across the sidewalk. The police sirens became increasingly quieter, until she couldn't here them at all. She found herself walking past an alley way close to the club she had gone to with her so called friends.

"What's your name?" Rapahel asked,

"My name's Clara," she said, scratching at the dirt clinging to her face. "Where are you taking me?"

"My hotel," was the vague answer. They turned a corner, walked another ten blocks or so before coming in front of an abandoned Hotel. The sign had originally said "Hotel Dumont", but she suspected one of the people living inside had painted the 'm' into an 'r'.

"Hotel Dumort, huh? Hotel of Death," she raised an eyebrow, "at least you guys have a sense of humor."

Raphael opened the front door and beckoned Clara to follow. The inside of the Hotel was dark, dusty and slightly damp.

"Raph, you back?" A feminine voice travelled through the hallway and then a girl with dark hair entered the lobby. The girls blue eyes focused on Clara. "New girl? Was she the one Charlie almost drained?"

"That she is, show her to a room, I'm going to step out for a bit," Raphael turned to look at her, "once I'm back I'll explain everything to you, in the mean time you can trust Chloe". He nodded his head towards the ravenette before walking out the door again.

There was an awkward silence in the air for a few moments, before the girl opened her mouth. "Well, I'm Chloe, and I'll be your guide for the evening." She gave a grin and a mocking bow.

"I'm Clara," she gave a little wave. "Umm, is there anyway I could maybe take a shower."

A flash of realisation traversed through Chloe's face, as if she had just noticed the girl in front of her was covered in dirt and blood. "Right," Chloe said, "come with me."

The two girl went up varios flights of stairs, before Chloe swung open the door to a beautiful Victorian style room.

"This is your room, you have a bathroom conjoined, I'll be back with some fresh clothes," Chloe grinned at her, fangs gleaming in the faint lights coming from the hallway, "make yourself at home."

Clara took a cautious step inside and Chloe closed the door behind her. The room was a beautiful shade of navy blue, with medium sized four poster bed, on top of a beautiful Persian rug. There was a sofa with a coffee table and lovely nightstand next to the bed. There was another door to the side where, Clara guessed, the bathroom was located. The door swung open again and Chloe stepped back into the room, this time with a pile of clothes in her arms. She placed them on the bed, and turned to speak to her.

"The bathroom is on the other side of that door, once you are ready," she gestured to wall on to the left, "go into the room next door, it's mine, and I'll take you to the kitchen so you can something to drink."

"Thank you, Chloe."

Chloe left the room and left Clara to take her shower in privacy.

* * *

After the shower, Clara was wearing a tank top a size too big and a pair of shorts, her feet were feeling the warmth from the red socks she was wearing. Clara knocked on Chloe's door as instructed, and a moment later Chloe emerged from her room. Chloe looked her up and down, before giggling,

"Don't worry, we'll get you some clothes that fit soon," Chloe took hold of her wrist and led her downstairs to the large kitchen. Clara could smell the sharp, metallic stench of blood wafting through the wood; on any other occasion she would have felt the need to throw up at the mere whiff of it, but now, she was craving for it to slide down her throat, quenching the thirst she had retained from the graveyard. Chloe opened a cabinet, from within it drew a jar stained with crimson and two tall glasses. Clara noticed that someone had drawn over the glass with a white Sharpie and had labeled the jar as "A+".

"A positive?" Clara raised an eyebrow and gulped.

Chloe opened up that jar as she spoke,

"It's my favourite blood type."

"I didn't know Vampires had favourite blood types."

"Well we do," Chloe was pouring the blood into the two tall glasses, up to the brim. Chloe carefully handed Clara one of the glasses, while keeping the other for herself.

" _Bon Appétit_ ," Chloe lifted up the glass ceremoniously before bringing it to her lips and taking a gulp.

Clara did the same, the liquid felt glorious going down her throat, she felt a rush of energy. In less than two gulps, she had finished the glass. Chloe tapped her fingernails on the glass cup,

"You are taking the whole transition into a Vampire pretty well," Chloe took another swig.

"Well living here is a far better idea than living back where I was," Clara sighed, "I mean, I like my foster parents but they're not my real parents, no matter how much the try to act like it."

"You had foster parents? What happened to you real parents?"

"My mom and dad got into a car accident when I was 8, I had no other family, and Child Services where having a hard time contacting my dad's side of the family," Clara leaned her face against her palm, "bounced around from family to family for awhile before I landed with Caroline and Neil, they were ok as far as I was concerned."

Chloe drew in an awkward breath and finished her glass of blood.

"So... how long have you been a Vampire?" Clara asked.

"Nearly thirty years, I was turned when I was 17, biologically I'm 45," Chloe bit her lip, "and there are perks to being a Vampire."

"Like what?"

Chloe leaned forward before uttering in a whisper, "no periods."

The two girl stared at each other for a few moments before letting out simultaneous laughs. Clara heard someone enter the kitchen and she whipped around. Raphael had returned from whatever errand he had to do.

"Sounds like you two are getting along," Raphael opened one of the bottom cabinets and tucked in a jar filled with dirt into it. "Clara, how are you feeling?"

"Great, thanks," Clara ducked her gaze away from him.

"She's adjusting a lot better than I expected," Chloe smiled, lightly knocking her fist against Clara's arm.

"Well, the sun's going to come out soon," Raphael faced the two girls, "you should be getting some rest. I'll give you a tour of the place tomorrow."

Clara nodded and followed Chloe as she stood up and left the kitchen. Soon after Clara was cuddled into her fluffy covers and was looking at the heavy, tightly shut curtains. Her eyes felt heavy, she sighed allowing them to shut close, and let the darkness of the room swallow her into an easy sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

When Clara entered her room, the first thing she did was flick her lamp on. The thick velvet drapes kept any mundane on the outside from knowing the truth about the supposedly abandoned hotel. The hotel was bustling, everyone had just woken up from their sleep while Clara had tried to watch the sunset from the shadow, she rubbed the tender sunburn on her arm hissing at the sharp stab of pain. The burn was already beggining to heal, albeit quite slowly. There was a sharp knock, and Clara hurridley tugged down her sleeve, wincing at the added wave of pain.

"Umm, come in," Clara nervously sat down on her bed as Raphael walked in. "Hi Raph, umm, why are you here?"

"I thought it was time that you come with me to see where we get our blood supply."

When she heard the name 'blood', she automatically felt her throat go dry. It had been a few unhealthy days where she had avoided so much as laying sight on the singular substance that could provide her life. Her hands twitched together;

"Do I have to go?" her voice came out breathy and trembling, she was afraid of what could happen if she laid eyes on blood again. Would she go crazy like Chloe said so many had done. She hated drinking the blood of innocent people, it made her feel like a true monster. She was only a few weeks into her vampirism, she was unstable, and she knew it.

"I would prefer if you would," Raphael came closer and laid a gentle hand on her head, "I think you should know how we get out supply."

With a shaky inhale of breath; that she didn't need but her mind was still convinced she had to, she nodded her head and stood up. Raphael waited for her on the other side of the door frame, while Clara tugged on her white converse that Chloe had lent her. She walked behind Raphael and ignored looks from the other vampires. The walked higher and higher up the hotel until reaching the rooftop where the Hotel's motorcycles were kept.

The still rising moon shone her light and illuminated the silver coloured gears and decorations. Raphael mounted the motorcycle, and waited for Clara to do the same. She did and as the engine revved to life, flowing with the demonic energies it was supplied with, she gripped onto Raphael's waist. With no words spoken, the motorcycle took off over the city.

* * *

It wasn't even half an hour before Raphael landed the motorcycle in an alleyway. It immediately stopped humming at Raphael's command.

"Raph, where are we?" Clara blinked rapidly trying to blink away the dryness in her eyes. Once her vision cleared up she noticed the abundance of warehouses lining the docks they were in. Her small nose picked up the smell of blood, although unable to tell if it was human or fauna.

"South Manhattan," Raphael replied, straightening his blazer and running a hand through his hair. At the sight, she felt her cheeks flush and hastily got of his motorcycle, jogging lightly to catch up to his form already walking away. They walked along the port, passing warehouse by warehouse, before Raphael stopped in front of one, and she stepped behind him; half hiding her self from whoever was . He rapped quickly on the metal sectional door, almost instantaneously it began to rise, revealing a well built man in a black muscle shirt and black glasses. But what caught Clara's attention the most was his vermillion skin and hands with long, sharp black talons.

Behind Raphael's back, she scrunched up her nose at the smoky smell that surrounded the vermillion skinned creature, like when you light a match and the smell it leaves when you put out the fire.

"Hello Elliott," Raphael greeted the man,

"We don't have your full order Santiago," the man, Elliott, responded gruffly.

"I'm not here for my order, I simply want to take my acquaintance with me and show her around," Raphael's lips held a smirk. Clara couldn't see Elliott's eyes, but she felt his gaze on her, an very uncomfortable gaze. With a sharp nod, he stepped back inside and sat down in a plastic chair next to the entrance. Raphael strode inside, as if he's been her thousands of times, which Clara had no doubt he had done.

She followed him, keeping close to his back, she felt an unpleasant shiver run through her spine. The smell of blood was stronger inside, almost overwhelming, Clara felt her throat begin to parch but her mouth began to salivate. She could try for years to say that she absolutely detested drinking blood that came from the population she was once a part of, but her body would show otherwise; the intense feeling of her jaw tensing and the fangs coming out and scrapping her gums.

Her vision began to blur, mind clouding and legs became heavy. She didn't notice that Raphael had stopped walking until she knocked into his back.

"Clara?" Raphael turned around and gripped her shoulders, she reached out and gripped onto his blazer, head leaning against his chest. She felt her sight and hearing fading, then heard the faint shout of Raphael calling for Elliott before collapsing entirely.

* * *

Clara gulped down the glass of blood, feeling instantly refreshed. Raphael was leaning against the wall, watching her, she could sense the exasperation hidden underneath his stone hard eyes. Clara put the glass down on the small table next to her, and scratched at her arm where her burn was. Her arm was snatched away and the sleeve of her sweater was pulled back up, Clara's green eyes met Raphael's face. He was staring intently at the injury as it swiftly healed and faded into her normal skin.

"Raph?" Clara called out his name timidly,

"I should've noticed, Dios you're an idiot!" he harshly whispered his words out, "if you had gone for long enough without blood you could've died Clara."

He dropped her arm and squatted down in front of her,

"There was still plenty of blood at the hotel, why didn't you drink any?" Raphael looked up at her, but Clara adverted her eyes.

"I don't like it," she mumbled, "drinking blood, I used to be human too Raphael, it makes me feel gross to have to drink their blood."

"You do realise that it's not human blood you've been drinking, right?" came his reply.

"What?" her eyes snapped back to meet his.

"You've been drinking chicken blood, Clara, didn't Chloe tell you?" Clara frantically shook her head, feeling her her whole body heat up in embarrassment. She pulled up her knees into her chest and buried her face in her jeans. A hand gently brushed through her hair.

"Clara, let's go home, alright?"

Clara nodded, and stood up from her seat in the chair. The two vampires left the warehouse, not bothering to say goodbye to Elliott as he was sound asleep in his chair.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been a few weeks since Clara's blood scare, and life as a vampire was finally something she was used to. She had yet to meet the true leader of the New York Clan, but from the stories Chloe has been telling her, she wasn't a vampire she was eager to meet. Instead of locking herself in her room she basked in the moonlight, a weak replacement for the sunlight she missed so dearly on her skin. But the stars had never looked as beautiful as the did when her heart was still beating.

Clara threw her head back with her eyes closed, leaning back on her hands. Fingers pressed themselves against her eyes and Clara gave a startled gasp,

"Guess who?"

Clara rolled her eyes from beneath that skin,

"Hi Chloe."

Chloe removed her hands from Clara face and plopped herself down next to her.

"The girls and I are all going to the Pandemonium tonight, we got Raph's permission, you in?" Chloe beamed.

Clara hadn't been to the Pandemonium since the night she was turned, in fact she hadn't really left the Hotel. Only once to the blood supply warehouse and even then she was under Raphael's supervision.

"I don't know Chloe," Clara moved herself to sit Indian style, "I don't know if its such a good idea, I haven't really gotten the handle on the bloodlust problem yet, what if I got haywire?"

"That won't happen Clara, I promise," Chloe took Clara hand in hers, "and besides you're going to be with me and like six other people, you'll be fine."

Clara gave a reluctant nod, and Chloe squealed. With a sharp tug from the older vampire, Chloe was dragging Clara behind her, babbling incoherently about the dress she had in her closet that would fit her perfectly.

* * *

Half an hour later, Clara was wrapped in a skin tight black dress and was biting on her lips, painted with the ruby red lipstick Chloe had convinced her to put on. The dress shockingly similar to the one she wore all those weeks ago. Chloe was in front of the mirror, twirling her hair with a curling iron before pinning the strands behind her ears.

"All right, I'm ready," Chloe clapped her hands together, "come one Clara, Vi and Georgie are waiting for us in the lobby."

Clara followed Chloe out and down the stairs, she seemed oddly cautious about being caught, as where Violet and Georgina. Perhaps they hadn't gotten permission to go out as Chloe had told her.

The four of them slipped away into the night hopeful to have fun between the flashing lights and metallic scented bodies.

* * *

And Clara found herself in the same position she did months ago. Except she didn't have the can of coke, instead she took a Red Bloody Mary, Violet had taught her codes to get Downworlder food and drinks in the bar. She sat on the barstool with her legs crossed over at the knee, toes twitching in the low-top converse she insisted on wearing instead of heels.

Her eyes caught the sight of a boy roughly the same age she was, swaggering towards her. He had a mop full of multicoloured hair and dark eyes that trailed along the sight of her crossed legs, he had the same dangerous look in his eyes Charlie had when he turned her. But he was human, she could smell the thumping of hot blood rushing through his veins but at the same time she felt no attraction to it. He smelled to much like the alcohol she detested so much.

With two long strides the boy was leaning against the bar,

"What's a pretty little thing like you doing here all alone," he drawled out, the words foggy with intoxication.

"Not alone, my friends are at the dance floor," she took a nervous sip from her Bloody Mary, eyes searching out for Chloe's black hair or catching sight of Georgina's unique fuchsia dress.

"Not very good friends to leave you here alone are they," he moved forward and rested a hand on her thigh.

Clara jumped, startled at the uncalled for touching. She stood up from the barstool, and shoved past the boy.

She was moving much faster than she was before, it helped that she had superhuman speed and flat soled shoes on. But the boy caught up to her and shoved her against the wall in an alleyway.

"That was pretty rude don't you think? Teasing me then leaving," he pressed his palms against her wrists pinning her to the wall. Then the fear of the night she became the vampire she was today came back all at once. She was shaking and the primal urge to survive to break free was let loose. The boy let out a scream as flung him of her and dug the teeth into his jugular vein. The sounds of the boy struggling for his breath fell upon deaf ears.

She was pulled back and the blood rushed down her chin, staining her neck and dress. Clara pushed herself away from his haemorrhaging body. Two strong arms tugged her into their chest,

"Shh, it's ok, I'm here," the soothing voice called out to her,

She felt the hot blood run down her cheeks from her eyes,

"Raph," she gasped out, she felt him run a cold hand through her hair, at the moment it was the most comfort she had ever received in her life.

"Just breathe, you're ok," he hugged her tighter, eyes glancing over to the dead body of the boy who had been harassing Clara. "Everything's ok."

"I'm sorry Raphael," she mumbled into his black dress shirt, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

Her words grew fainter and she felt Raphael swing her up into his arms, her eyes closing as the world faded around her.

* * *

Clara woke up the next morning wrapped tightly into her bed covers, she was changed out of the uncomfortable club dress and the blood had been washed of her skin. She heard voices arguing on the other side of her door,

"What the hell were you thinking Chloe!" it was Raph, "When you asked me to go to the Pandemonium, I never thought you were planning to take Clara with you! She's been through enough there!"

"I'm sorry Raph, I thought she'd be fine," Chloe softly replied, her answer unintelligible to human ears but Clara heard every word.

"You thinking she would be fine doesn't mean shit right now Chloe!" she heard a sharp frustrated growl, "get out of my sight."

Clara heard soft footsteps leading away from the door, then the door opened and Raphael stepped into the room. "You're awake, that's good."

"Was that Chloe?"

"Yes, she's on probation at the moment," Raph pulled a chair next to her bedside and sat down there, "I had no idea she was going to bring you to the Pandemonium, if I did I wouldn't have allowed it."

"Maybe thats why she did it," Clara sat up, the covers falling down into her lap.

"Excuse me?"

"I've been here for week and I haven't left, she just wanted me to have fun Raph," she reached a hand out to hold his hand but hesitated, until his hand clasped around hers.

"You looked so scared, I was really worried about you," his words made her dead heart flutter, but the feeling soon left as she remembered the colourful boy she had drained the life from.

Clara slipped her hand away from Raphael's and held it against her mouth, she felt like she was going to be sick. She killed someone, physically laid her fangs on someone and drained the life from their body.

"Clara it wasn't your fault, he tried to take advantage of you, " Raphael stood up and rested his palm on the top of her head, "you defended yourself that's all, don't worry about it."

But there was something to worry about, it didn't matter to the Nephilim if she killed him in self defence, they would want justice for the Accords being violated, and that meant Clara's persecution or death.


	5. Chapter 5

"I'm going to be in trouble aren't I?" Clara held her head down. Raphael hand dropped from her hair.

"We'll figure something out, don't worry" he took her hand in his.

"Raph, I killed someone," she pulled her hand away again and dropped to her side, her back facing him. "I'm not going to get out of this situation so easily."

With a heavy sigh, Raphael walked to the door.

"Get some sleep." He opened the door, "i'll be sunrise soon."

He closed the door behind him and left Clara alone with her thoughts. She remembered how it felt to have his life between her fingers and the metallic taste of blood flowing down her throat. In that moment she felt utterly powerful. And that's what scared her the most.

* * *

Clara woke up a few hours later, the covers were smothering her so she threw them back, exposing her skin to the cold air inside the hotel room. She stared at the ceiling, not bothering to get back up but soon the boredom of doing nothing was getting to her. She looked to her left where a copy of To Kill a Mockingbird was laying on her nightstand. She had finished the book a few days ago, and now she was itching to get her fingers on another cover.

She swung her legs over the side of her bed, feet fumbling for her flats, she successfully slipped her feet into her shoes. The hallway outside her room was fairly empty, a few of the resident vampires were talking on their way to get their next meal. Clara waited for them to pass, embarrassed to be seen by anyone yet. She cautiously stuck her head out the door and quickly walked down the hallway in the direction of the library.

The library was a small room located in the west wing of the hotel, Clara suspected the former visitors of Hotel Dumont didn't visit the library that often. Clara coughed slightly on the stale, dusty air, her flats dug into the rug. Her fingers found themselves brushing against the covers of the books as she passed by the bookshelves. None catching her eye just yet, her hand stopped when she read the title of the book at the end of the shelf. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.

Clara pulled out the book from its place in the the bookshelf. She brushed away the dust on the book with her hand, the small particles falling into the air to join with other in the air. She didn't want to return to her room just yet, she peeked behind the curtains, hoping for a seat by the window to curl up and read. When she did find one, she lightly swiped her hadn't across the blanket and pillows, she laid down, shutting the curtain closed behind her. Hiding herself from the world outside, the moon outside provided enough light for her to read. She had barely had enough time to open the cover, when the door to the library opened and the sound of someone stepping inside instinctively made her hold her breath. Not that she had any to hold on to. The door closed a few moments later, Clara felt the sudden tension leave her body and relax into the pillows behind her. She opened the book and brushed her fingertips against the pages as she read the words printed on them, losing herself in the world of Jane Austen's masterpiece.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a shadow moving at the back of the building. The lights were turned of so she needn't worry about attracting attention to her position at the window. The figure stopped to look upwards at the building, Clara crouched down, trying to hide herself but still keep an eye on the figure. The figure had curling blonde hair at the top of his head, that much she could tell, his face was hidden by the shadows. As if he was startled, he shot away with incredible speed. Clara watched him go, a feeling of unsettling dread filled her up, she didn't know why.

She didn't notice the curtain being pulled back until a hand laid itself on her shoulder, she jumped, head snapping to her side. Raphael was looking at her with concerned eyes.

"I was looking for you, you weren't in your room," he drew his hand back, "Are you okay?"

She smiled at him, closing the book, forgetting to mark the page. "I'm fine."

"Come with me, your eyes are turning red," he grimaced, nose scrunching up slightly, "its dusty as hell here."

He took her wrist and slightly pulled her along with him. Clara dropped the book and left it on her window seat. She looked back, the figure from before was haunting her. She could've sworn she had seen him before and that this wouldn't be the last time she would see him.

* * *

Raphael had led her back to her room, she didn't really know why he was so careful or why he insisted on keeping her in one spot. She sighed and tossed her head back, she wanted nothing more than to get away for a while. If she was going to punished for her crime, then at least she would be punished from it away from all her friends. It was still dark out and would be for another few hours. She pulled back the curtains and opened the window, she looked down from her windowsill, she was only three stories up. The jump would harm her, especially not in her undead form. She tossed herself and landed silently on the stone pathway lining the outside of the hotel. She had turned off the light in her room as to not bring any suspicion to the mundanes walking past as she left on her midnight escapade.

After walking a few couple blocks away from the hotel, she began to see a few cars drive past her. The street lamps illuminated the sidewalk in front of her. She tucked her fingers into the front pockets of her jeans, she looked at the apartment across the street, her heightened eyesight made it possible to see what was happening inside. There was couple, a brunette woman with her arms wrapped around the neck of a blonde man, they were swaying together in their living room. The woman threw her head back slightly and laughed at something the grinning man had said. Were her parents this happy before they died? She couldn't remember, but she hoped that they were. Her gaze dropped down at the sidewalk and she kept walking, past the couple's apartment.

The next few streets were the same, apartments with either dimmed lights or no light at all. There was family in a small on flat house, there was another couple with two children curled up between them, a girl and a boy, watching the tv screen intently and laughing at the best parts of the movie they had decided to watch. She swallowed a lump in her throat as she thought back to the boy from last night, he had a family too. A mother who loved him and would kiss him on the cheek, a father who would pat him proudly on the back whenever he won a game, a brother maybe or a sister who'd tease him constantly. A group of friends who laugh with him. And she had taken it all away, she had ruined the lives of so many people in just a few seconds.

She caught sight of a small restaurant, still open. The sign read Taki's Diner, the plates listed were odd to say the least. Until she realised that they catered to downworlders such as herself. She crossed the street quickly, passing by a large man with dark red skin and black taloned hands, he didn't so much as glance at her. The diner was filled with downworlders, there was two girls in the corner of the diner practically swallowing a plate of raw sea bass.

"Hi there, would you like a booth or sit here at the bar?" a girl had stopped in front of her, she had blonde hair with a greenish tint and bright blue eyes without pupils. A fae, a nixie if she would have to guess.

"A booth, I guess," Clara scratched her wrist.

"Great," the girl gave her a sharp toothed grin, "come with me."

The girl lead Clara to an empty booth almost all the way in the back. Once she sat down, the girl pulled out a notepad.

"My name is Kaelie, what would you like," she began tapping her pen against the notepad, "we have all the blood types here for your preference."

She didn't know what to say, she didn't really have any intention of eating here, she was only intrigued by the presence of the other downworlders here.

"I don't know about her, Kaelie, but I'll take a cup of coffee and an egg sandwich," a man dropped himself in front of her.

"Coming right up, I'll be back if you want something for yourself sweetie," the girl scribbled on her notepad before putting it away.

"You don't mind if I sit here do you," the man leaned forward slightly, there was a mischievous look from behind his glasses.

"Not really, I'm not here for the food," Clara smiled nervously, "I was kind of just interested in the dow- the people in here." She caught herself before she revealed the Shadow World to the stranger. If was something Raphael told her and it had stuck.

"Yeah, the downworlders here can be pretty interesting, especially the fae," he grinned at her.

That was strange, he knew about the Shadow World, and yet he wasn't a vampire, nor did he smell like wet dog, or have the appearance of a faerie. He was normal, but no mundane was supposed to know.

"Who are you?"

"How rude of me, I haven't introduced myself," he stuck his hand out, "My name is Simon Lovelace, nice to meet you."


	6. Chapter 6

"I'm Clara Dalton," she shook his hand, "odd name though, Lovelace?"

Simon drew his hand back with a slight grimace on his face,

"Yeah, that wasn't my idea."

Kaelie came back balancing a cup of coffee and an egg sandwich in two hands,

"You want anything, Clara," Simon took a sip of his coffee,

"No, thank you, I'm fine."

Kaelie nodded and walked back to the bar.

"I wasn't fond of it either," Simon wiped his mouth after taking a bite of his sandwich.

"Huh?"

"Drinking blood, wasn't my favourite part of being a vampire," he slid his glasses back up his nose, "but the fangs and the hotness, that was cool."

Clara felt the corner of her lips tug into a small smile.

"You don't look like a vampire, but you said you were," Clara cocked her head to the side,

"I was a vampire, but stuff happened and now I'm not."

"Then what are you, because you're clearly not like any downworlder I recognise."

"I'm not a downworlder, I'm a Shadowhunter."

Clara drew in a sharp breath, and let it sit in her dead lungs. Raphael had told her about the Nephilim as well, it hadn't occurred to her that Simon was one. He was quite a bit lanky to be honest, and he certainly didn't have an intimidating face, especially not when he was stuffing his mouth with the egg sandwich.

"Don't worry, I'm not here to hurt anyone, I'm more of a recruiter than a fighter," Simon pushed the rest of his sandwich into mouth, wiping his hands on the napkin. There was something so squirrel like about the way he was acting, and Clara was starting to find it difficult to keep her amusement to herself.

"You're from Raphael's clan aren't you?" Simon held a hand to his mouth as he chewed through the large sandwich.

"Yeah, I just needed do get out for a while, I had an incident last night, and Raph decided he was going to keep me under lock and key for a while."

"That doesn't sound like Raphael," Simon finished his coffee. "What incident, did something happened?"

"I'd rather not talk about it," Clara folded her hands together. Thinking it best to keep this part of her story away from Simon.

Simon looked at his watch,

"It's getting close to sunrise, you should go now if you want to get back to the Hotel on time," Simon stood up and tossed a five dollar bill on the table. He picked up a Taki's Diner business card from the bar, and wrote something on the back of it. He held the card out for Clara to take.

"In case you want to talk some more," he offered her a smile as Clara took the card put it in her pocket. He left without another word.

Clara hurried out of the diner, Simon was nowhere to be seen. She turned left and carried on until she reached the hotel.

* * *

Her window was still open, and she found herself with the next conundrum. How to get back inside her room without anyone noticing. Clara dug her fingers into the brick wall trying to find a good grip to climb back up.

"You know you could just use the front door."

Clara froze and turned to look behind her. Raphael was leaning against the brick wall, arms folded over his chest.

"Where have you been?"

"Taki's Diner," Clara responded hesitantly.

"And what where you doing there?"

"Nothing really, I got interested, there were a lot of downworlders there," Clara though it would be best not to mention Simon at the moment.

"You reek of Nephilim, I think you did a lot more than just sit in the diner and do nothing."

"I was talking to someone, I can't do that now?"

"Dios! I never said that Clara, I'm simply worried for you," he ran a hand through his black hair, tugging slightly at it in frustration. Clara brushed her fingers over the climbing ivy, feeling slightly flushed.

"You're in a complicated situation right now, you can't go off running around in the city," he took a step forward, "you need to stay safe."

Raphael looked behind her, Clara followed his gaze, finding nothing but the flickering darkness. He placed a hand on her shoulder, pulling her forward.

"Come the sun will be rising soon."

* * *

Clara couldn't sleep, her mind wouldn't let her, so she focused on the song of the morning robins. She used to love that sound, a sign that the darkness of the night was over, but as a creature of darkness itself, she learned to love the night and all its wonders. I'm simply worried for you… you need to stay safe. The words that came out of Raphael's mouth, made her cheeks flush and stomach swirl. She buried her face into the soft, red silk of her pillow. If her heart could beat, it would be pounding against her ribs. She knew the feeling from long ago, but it wasn't possible. Her arms tingled at the thought of folding her arms around his waist a holding him against her; she brushed her fingertips against her lips; pressing her mouth against his. She shook her head fervently. She wasn't in love with him, she couldn't be. She pulled the covers over her head, nose twitching as it rubbed against it, she curled herself up into a ball. Her eyes drifted shut, and the grip on her covers lessened.

* * *

Clara wasn't the only one struggling to shut her eyes. Raphael laid a top of his own covers, suit jacket thrown haphazardly over an armchair. One hand held on tightly to the golden cross around his neck, drawing his finger over the smooth metal, remembering how it once scorched his flesh in his fledgeling years but no rest comfortably against the pale skin of his chest. His free hand made rounds along his face and through his hair. He could still smell the Nephilim on Clara's body, never before had it bothered him this way before, especially not when he recognized it as the smell of his former clanmate, Simon Lewis. Simon had found a way out the vampire world and into the Nephilims ranks. His mind was reeling, normally he would never consider the thought that one of his clanmates and Simon Lovelace were involved in anything intimate, especially not when reminded of his engagement to Isabelle, but there was something about it being Clara that sent him into a frenzy. His thoughts spinning false accusations of Simon's hands on her waist as he pushed her into the alleyway and kissed her, or even just the mere idea of him wrapping his arms around her in a hug. He wanted to be the one to do those things, to whisper softly in her ear and tell her how beautiful she looked in the moonlight; or admire her soft skin as she laid asleep under silk covers. He wasn't in love with her, he couldn't be, he'd never felt love before in his life. He didn't know what it felt like. He couldn't be in love with her.


	7. Chapter 7

Clara's eyes drew open as the sun began to sink behind the horizon. The silk covers thrown off of her body, half of them trailing down the side of her bed. There was no light leaking from underneath the heavy draped curtains, a guarantee of safety for her life. Dropping off her bed, she draw the curtains open, letting in the little moonlight there was. Clara sighed, this was one of the few times where she felt her fear of the dark waste away, the time she had spent with her clan and Raphael had taken care of that. She settled for gazing at the stars, small lights twinkling at her from their place in the inky sky. She could smell the faint trail of wet earth from the rain earlier in the morning.

She opened the window, eager to let in more of her favourite scent fill her room. Only to ben assaulted by an overload of a different smell. Panic was rising steadily in her chest, she recognised the smell, a strong ashy and metallic smell. Her eyes swept over the garden madly. She gripped onto the windowsill as she found the same figure from the library leaning against a tree, half of his eyes were covered by blonde hair but she could still feel his stare on her, a terrifying fanged grin settled upon his lips.

She pushed herself away from the window, racing down and around the hotel, trying to reach the garden to confront him. It was only a few seconds, before she found herself in front of the tree, with no man in sight. The scent was still heavy in the air and her eyes watered, her cheekbones aching in addition. She could still feel the itching in her neck from when he bit into her neck and turned her into the creature she is now.

She heard rustling in the bushes, with no sense of smell to rely on she spun wildly on her heels trying to locate the source of the sound.

"Who's there?" She willed her nails to grow longer, preparing them in case of a fight. She heard growling, and stiffened. _Werewolf._

She let out a scream as her body was thrown to the ground from behind, jaws clamped down on her shoulder as a large furry body pressed down on her back. The scarlet fluid pouring out of her wound was staining the grass a dark red. She reached around with her free arms and dug her sharpened claws into the werewolf's neck, and with a sharp tug brought him down to meet her on the ground. She turned her body away from it, her free hand holding the aching shoulder.

Black dots floated in front of her vision, she was swaying, movements impeded by the loss of blood. The wolf let out a sharp growl before tackling her down once again, this time cracking her shoulder bone. She let out a blood-curling scream. Claws digging into the werewolf's cheek and jaw tearing deep into the flesh and leaving behind long lacerations. Clumps of dark brown fur tangling into her nails. The pain was too much, she could feel herself blacking out, and then the pressure was gone. She let her body go limp in the dirt.

* * *

When Raphael first heard the scream he thought nothing of it, for all he knew a pair of vampires were busying themselves with each other in one of the hotel rooms. But when he heard the second, he felt his cold blood freeze over, and the book he was holding in his hands drop to the carpet. Clara.

He pushed a vampires out his way, racing by them in an effort to get to the source of the sound as quickly as his ability would allow him. The sight made his stomach churn, a werewolf was tearing apart Clara's shoulder. Without a moment's hesitation he leaped forward, throwing himself against the werewolf his own claws ripping apart at the werewolf's flesh with superior strength. The werewolf yowled and took off into the forest.

Raphael rasped out an order to the two vampires who came out to see the commotion, who took after it immediately. Raphael turned back to Clara's limp body, shrugging off his suit jacket and pressing it against her wound. He swung her up into his arms, and went in the opposite direction. His only thought was getting her to Magnus.

* * *

Magnus' hands glowed a brilliant blue as his magic stitched together the tattered tendons of Clara's shoulder together. Raphael was leaning against the wall, chewing on his nails, a habit he had developed when he was human, hair messy from tugging at the roots and the sleeves of his buttoned up shirt were pulled up to his elbows. Every time his eyes laid sight on Clara's wound, he grimaced, there had been worse things he had seen, but his mind was determined to make sure he knew that this was by far the worst. Magnus' energy was draining, soon he'd have to stop and let the rest of the damage be taken care of by her vampiric healing. The magic stopped, leaving a deep cut, and Raphael breathed out a sigh as Clara's body slowly took over healing itself.

Magnus stood up from his crouched position, knees whining at the sudden movement, and grabbed a roll of bandages from a first aid kit Alec instead on keeping in the apartment, and wrapped a thin layer around the still healing cut. He turned to face Raphael, now noting his dishevelled appearance.

"What happened?" Magnus demanded, tugging on his glittery blue suit jacket. Raphael took his nails out of his mouth, wiping the saliva on his trousers,

"Werewolf, she was outside and it just attacked her." Raphael pressed his hands against his face, rubbing at the skin before continuing, "I sent some vampires after it."

Raphael walked across the floor, kneeling down beside the couch to brush a stray strand of Clara's brown hair behind her ear. Magnus smiled,

"She's going to be fine Raph, come with me to the kitchen," Magnus turned on his heel and made a beeline towards the kettle, "I think I still have some blood left in the fridge."

"I won't need any, but thank you," he followed him into the kitchen. Magnus set the water to boil, before reaching into his jeans pocket and pulling out a tuft of dark brown hair.

"Your girl put up quite the fight," a small smile graced his lips, "never seen so much werewolf hair in one nail."

Raphael leaned his elbows against the counter tops,

"Can you use it to locate the werewolf," Raphael asked.

"Of course there plenty of it," Magnus put the fur back into his pocket, reaching into the cupboard to pull out a mug, serving himself a cup of tea.

Raphael noticed two faces peeking at him from the doorway, Magnus and Alec's sons, Max and Rafael. Rafe, the eldest, grinned and ran over to Raphael.

"Hi Uncle Raph!"

Raphael smiled at his namesake, and ruffled the boys black hair. The younger, Max came walking behind his brother, hiding behind his back.

"Ow! Watch the horns Max!" Rafe spun around, his small tanned hand rubbing against the middle of his back.

"Sorry!" Max called back.

"Alright you two, we have a guest in the living room, so I want you to go back to your rooms and play there," Magnus took a sip of his tea,

"But dad," Rafe whined,

Magnus gave his son a pointed look, "go."

With a frown, Rafe turned around marching back to his bedroom, Max trailing behind him.

"Now about the werewolf," Magnus placed his mug on the counter, "was it rogue?"

"I'm assuming for now it was, if it was an attack by a pack there would've been more damage," Raphael straightened up, "but Clara was the only one attacked."

"Could she have been the target, I've heard from Simon about the mundane she killed a while ago," Magnus ignored Raphael's sharp look, "maybe he was a friend of the werewolf, and he was seeking vengeance."

"It just doesn't make sense," Raphael groaned.

Magnus hummed,

"Ah, looks like our little fighter is waking up," Magnus walked around Raphael, heading towards the couch. Clara was mumbling, eyes half open sleepily.

"How're you feeling," Raphael asked softly, kneeling down beside her,

"A little sore, where am I?" Clara lifted her head up from the couch cushion,

"My apartment, my names Magnus," he held out his hand, "nice to meet you, Clara."

Clara sluggishly lifted up her own hand to shake his, before placing a hand on her shoulder, feeling the bandage.

"I could've sworn my shoulder was ripped apart," she let her hand drop down to the couch, "or did I dream that."

"No, you were attacked," Raphael confirmed, softly stroking his fingers through Clara's dark hair, "what do you remember?"

"I woke up, and I opened my window," she took a deep breath, and pushed herself up holding her head,

"Steady," Raphael held her upper arms,

"I, I saw him," she stuttered, "I saw Charlie outside my window, in the garden."

Raphael stopped stroking her hair,

"That's not possible, Charlie shouldn't be alive," Raphael muttered.

"Whose Charlie?" Magnus spoke from beside Raphael,

"Charlie is Clara's sire," he answered, "he was always violent, the amount of times I had to cover up what he did was astounding, I had enough and I killed him, at least I thought I did."

Magnus hummed, stroking the side of his chin with his thumb.

"What happened after?"

"I went to the garden, to confront him, but when I got there he was gone and then I got attacked by the werewolf," Clara fiddled with her fingers in her lap.

"Do you think this Charlie was the one who planned the attack?" Magnus asked,

"I don't know, but it seems more likely than it being a random rogue attack," Raphael looked at Magnus, "can I talk to you in private?"

Magnus nodded and Raphael followed him to the hallway, closing the door to the living room behind him.

Clara dropped back down on the couch, her shoulder twinging slightly.


End file.
